


One Last Trip

by LadyBrooke



Series: Touch Starved Finarfin [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, M/M, Neglect, Unfulfilled Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Maglor escorts Finarfin to Alqualondë. He thinks this is just another trip among many, until Finarfin tries to kiss him.Then Finarfin reveals he will not return to Tirion but will marry Ëarwen.
Relationships: Eärwen/Finarfin | Arafinwë, Finarfin | Arafinwë/Maglor | Makalaurë
Series: Touch Starved Finarfin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792456
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: 31 Days 2020





	One Last Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 31 Days June 17th, 2020 prompt, “How to Flee Properly”.

“You are the only one I desire like this,” Finarfin said, pressing closer to Maglor.

Maglor laughed, turning his head away when Finarfin tried to press a kiss to his lips. The kiss landed on his cheek instead, and Maglor could not help smiling even as he refused Finarfin’s offer. “Grandfather will send me away to a different city if I bed you when I am supposed to be escorting you to Alqualondë with me to study. I adore you, Arafinwë, but we can hardly give up our entire lives for this.” 

“Atar would not. He loves your father too much, and he would have to pay more attention to me to even notice you had done such.” Finarfin shrugged, a smile on his face he clearly did not mean but was unwilling to give up. “But you have made your choice, and I will accept it.”

“He would know.” Maglor kept his smile on his face, even as Finarfin’s expression made him wonder if he was wrong. While Finwë had been busy lately, and Finarfin had seemed even more disappointed lately, he had thought they would move past it on this trip. If Finwë was merely stressed, or struggling to cope with the last of his children being grown, than Finarfin disappearing for a few months could only help things. 

“Perhaps when we return to the city - I cannot do such without Grandfather’s approval,” Maglor said.

“I will not return.” Finarfin turned his head, watching Maglor’s expression from beneath his eyelashes.

The glass dropped from Maglor’s hand, but he did not notice until wine had begun to soak into his pants.

“Eärwen and I discussed such. If I found another we would not continue our plans, but I have not and she does not care to look for a lover for herself. We intend to marry - I will have a home with her.” Finarfin’s smile turned more true. “She said that even if we did not love each other as lovers, we love each other as friends, and that will be enough.” 

“I,” Maglor said, suddenly at a loss for words.

“I know now. You have your father’s love and my father’s love, and will not risk it for me,” Finarfin said.

The lack of accusation in his voice made it hurt even worse, and Maglor finally found his voice even as he was seized by the sudden need to kiss Finarfin, just this once and even though he had refused such to him before.

“I would not risk it for any other, either,” Maglor said. “And I shall not love another. It is unfair of me to ask, but-”

“One kiss, before we arrive and take our different paths,” Finarfin said, shifting closer once more.

It was not the sweet kiss of youth or a kiss of passion shared between lovers convinced the world would bend to their love, but a kiss full of dying embers of hope and faint echoes of trust between two that had never kissed before and did not see themselves doing such again.

When Maglor finally pulled back, tear tracks trailed down Finarfin’s cheeks. He brushed the tears away.

”I should not ask it of you,” Finarfin said. 

“Anything, Arafinwë, whatever you wish. If I could not give you what you first wanted.” Maglor continued to hold his uncle, until Finarfin finally spoke again. 

“Stay for our wedding, please. It will be a few months away, and I do not intend to send word to the rest of our family before then, but I would like to have one member stand beside me.” 

Maglor could not smile, but he did nod. “Of course. It would not do to have you stand alone once more.” 

A year later, Maglor walked up the palace steps, taking in the scattered reminders of his Father and Fingolfin, and his Aunts chattering away near the entrance to the sitting room. It was strange, how Finarfin had been the youngest, had still lived here, and yet with his refusal to return, reminders of him were almost gone.

He knocked on the door to his grandfather’s study. Finarfin had said that he would not care, but surely Finwë would at least notice that his son had not returned.

“Makalaurë,” Finwë said, standing and crossing the room, smiling wildly. “How was the trip? Did you learn much from Olwë’s court musicians?”

“Good,” he said. Painful, he thought, learning that Finarfin had no plans to return and then watching him marry. “Yes, but I must speak to you of Arafinwë.”

“Did he decide to stay longer? I shall write him a letter later, I must go meet your father in the forge soon, and Findis in the library after that.”

Finwë was long gone from the study, a tray of snacks sent for and delivered to Maglor’s hands, before Maglor managed to pull his thoughts together.

Finarfin had been right, he thought, and he was the fool who should have stayed with his uncle and fled together to make a new life. 


End file.
